Ebenezer
by Alexa Johnson
Summary: Christmas, 1981. In order to promote goodwill and cheer throughout the faculty, Dumbledore decides to arrange a Secret Santa. Severus Snape is NOT pleased. Written for the hpholidaygen fic exchange. A one shot.


**Title:** Ebenezer

**Author:** Alexa Johnson

**Characters:** Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and a cameo by Trelawney

**Warnings:** None.

**Summary:** Christmas, 1981. In order to promote goodwill and cheer throughout the faculty, Dumbledore decides to arrange a Secret Santa. Severus Snape is NOT pleased.

**Author's Notes:** I wrote this for the hpholidaygen fic exchange over at the Harry Potter livejournal community as a pinch-hit, so I only had a week to get it out and edited. If it sounds rushed in any way, that's why! My giftee requested something with Snape at Christmas, and this is what my mind turned out. Many thanks to V.M. Bell for being the most wonderful beta, and for giving me this idea in the first place. I hope you all enjoy, and please send a review!

And because fanfiction dot net has been refusing to show my section breaks, I've capitalized the first couple words to distinguish each new section!

**Ebenezer**

SEVERUS SNAPE HAD MADE IT A HABIT to get to staff meetings a few minutes late to avoid having to talk with anyone, but it so happened that he arrived a bit early on the penultimate one before the winter holidays.

It was an impromptu meeting, and Albus had only just informed him a few hours ago with that damned bloody twinkle in his eyes. It was the twinkle that usually foreshadowed something he didn't want to do and consequently reminded him he had a conscience, because he usually ended up doing whatever it was even if the logical part of his mind was screaming bloody murder.

The faculty trickled in slowly, and Minerva McGonagall was the next to appear, sparing a small glance for him as she sat in one of the chairs across from him.

The relationship between them was interesting, to say the least. They respected each other because they were both masters of their subjects, but other than that, they kept their distance.

Well, not entirely.

They differed immensely on how to conduct affairs in the classroom and how to treat the students, and Severus recalled many arguments with the infuriating woman on how he presumably "favored" his Slytherins.

He didn't see it as favoring. He preferred to call it giving them a chance.

They obviously didn't share the same point of view, and this had led to many rows.

It had been during one of these rows, sometime during the end of September, when she had accidentally found out his secret.

Severus figured it had irked her that Albus had never revealed his position to her, deciding that the less people knew hewas the Order's informant, the better.

Yet, instead of melting the frost, his precarious position merely served to distance them further, limiting exchanges to McGonagall's dubious glances in return for his glowers. He couldn't help but wonder how much she blamed him for the deaths of the Potters that horrific night, and gloom began to float around him like fog. He'd wanted to warn them; had tried to warn them.

But he had been too late.

"I do not like the air I feel around you this afternoon, young Severus," Sybil Trelawney, Resident Crackpot at Hogwarts (as he called her in the privacy of his chambers), murmured to him as she took a chair beside him. "I sense death, destruction, and impending doom."

"The only impending death I sense in the air is yours if you don't shut up," he snapped irritably, drawing forth a reluctant laugh from McGonagall. So maybe disdain for Divination and most of its associations was another matter they agreed upon.

Finally, though, the rest of the faculty trickled in, including Albus himself, and once everyone was situated and the tide of chatter and commotion fell, the meeting began with a sharp clap from the Headmaster.

"This may seem a little irregular, as I have never attempted to do something like this with the faculty before," Albus began, the smile on his face hinting at some activity to come that Severus could already sense he wasn't going to feel enthused about. "To help further the promotion of goodwill and cheer, I have decided to host the first Secret Santa among the professors this Christmas."

Severus barely stifled a groan as the rest of the staff showed differing signs of excitement.

_This _was Albus' idea of joyous tidings? He'd rather pet a Blast-ended Skrewt.

Christmas at Spinner's End had always been a low-key affair, and it usually ended with his parents' squabbling like First Years over various inanities while he would cower behind their scraggly tree. Hogwarts had been a blessing, granting him the opportunity to avoid most holidays where he would have to spend large quantities of time with his parents.

He noticed absentmindedly that Albus had a bowl in his hands, which held a numerous amount of tiny pieces of white paper.

"I will be passing around this bowl, which is currently holding all of your names. Simply pull out a piece of paper and pass the bowl along down the circle until everyone has one. I assume that I can trust you all at this point in your lives to resist the temptation to cheat?" Albus asked, clearly enjoying himself.

The bowl made its trek around the circle, and Severus dreaded its coming. Soon, however, it was his turn, and he snatched up a slip quickly and proceeded to pass the dreaded things around.

He'd thought, briefly, that this just might not be as bad as he was fearing, but that was before he saw the name glaring him triumphantly in the face.

Severus stared at the paper in horror, using every ounce of his self-control not to confront Albus about this on the off chance his anger might alert his recipient of her Santa.

Santa.

What a joke.

He was by far the Scrooge of the faculty and couldn't remember the last time he'd even properly celebrated Christmas, let alone bought someone a gift.

And, now, he had to find some inane present for—

Merlin.

He glowered fiercely at Albus, letting him know they would be exchanging words later.

Albus merely twinkled.

_That twinkle should be outlawed, _Severus thought viciously, the small slip of paper suffering the consequences of his anger. _Thou shalt not twinkle, under penalty of death…_

Well, there was nothing to be done now except find this bloody gift as quickly and painlessly as possible.

The only problem was that he was buying for Minerva McGonagall.

IT WAS THE EVENING before the gifts were supposed to be distributed, and Severus knew that all the faculty had their presents picked out and wrapped.

Except for him.

What did one get for a woman like McGonagall, who was as prim and proper as an instruction manual?

Well, perhaps inspiration would strike while he roamed Diagon Alley, although he sensed that was as likely to happen as strict Purebloods befriending every Muggle and Half-blood in sight.

Wait… why was he even trying to invest so much thought into this?

Wouldn't it be easier if he just gave her a simple gag gift? Something she would remember from the time he had been a student, perhaps?

Then, quite suddenly, it hit him like an exploding cauldron.

It was going to be _perfect._

IN THE END, ALBUS HAD DECIDED to leave it up to them to track down their recipient in case the gifts were on the more personal side. The gift giving was between the two people, after all, and he didn't want to make it awkward for those who wished to deliver their presents in private.

Severus was eternally grateful for this and was hardly surprised at all when Minerva McGonagall appeared at his door, a moderately sized box in her hands.

Albus probably had all the names charmed to choose their recipients, and Severus figured that this was part of some manipulative scheme of the old man's to bring him and McGonagall closer together.

"Merry Christmas, Severus," McGonagall greeted, giving him a rare smile as she dropped the box unceremoniously on his desk, where he had been grading last-minute papers.

He had been undeniably curious to see what the witch would choose for him, until…

"_Meow,_" said the box very distinctly as it fell on the cold wood.

_Oh, no._

Boxes were definitely not supposed to make noises.

And that had most certainly not been a smile Minerva had just bestowed upon him, he realized suddenly. The bloody woman had been _smirking _at him! Of all the nerve…

"Minerva, _what_ in Merlin's name have you done…" he grumbled, looking up at her as she stood before him and gingerly taking the lid off the box, trying very hard to bite back the curse that had sprung towards his lips.

The black head that popped out was very much alive.

"You got me a bloody _kitten_,Minerva? What the hell am I supposed to do with it?"

"I'm simply trying to spread goodwill and cheer to you Severus," she replied, "and thought this kitten could be your alter ego, you know. That maybe, beneath all your bite and bark…"

"Don't go any further," he snapped, although a part of him was amused that Minerva liked to think a small ball of fluff existed beneath the rest of his layers.

His alter ego indeed.

"In that case, then," he carried on, feeling lighter than he had in years, "I'm going to have to call him Ebenezer."

McGonagall released a rather unfeminine guffaw. "At least the poor thing's not a human being – otherwise, I might feel sorry for him."

It might be nice to have some company that didn't demand constant conversation, although he didn't know if the kitten would agree.

"I imagine the old man arranged this so we'd have to choose for each other," he remarked, struggling to keep his emotions in check as he thought of McGonagall's gift, "so, in case you haven't guessed, I have your present as well."

McGonagall looked at him skeptically, as though she were trying to work out how _Severus_ and _present_ could be in the same sentence. Unable to hold back The Sneer, he bent over to pick his box off the floor handed it to her.

Eying the box as though it were one of Hagrid's books, which tended to be as dangerous as the creatures he supervised, she pushed open the lid (he hadn't bothered to wrap it) and peered inside.

And gasped.

"Merlin's beard, Severus…" But it sounded more like amused horror than pure horrified horror.

Smirking at her, he said, "Ah yes, you like it? I transfigured them myself."

She stared at him. "But, Severus, you were always horrible at Transfiguration. It was something I could never figure out, how a student who excelled in all other classes could perform so dismally in mine."

He scoffed. "I never saw the point in half the things we did in Transfiguration—I mean, what the hell was beneficial in turning a pincushion into a porcupine?"

She laughed, albeit hesitantly, clearly not appreciating his mocking of her subject. Well, she mocked his Slytherins, so he supposed they were finally even.

She reached into the box, and he was greeted with the efforts of his labor: a pair of fuzzy yellow slippers with rather demented smiley faces on the front. He'd encountered a bit of a problem with that, and he thought it probably had something to do with the fact that he didn't really know _how _to smile anymore and thus didn't imagine one properly for the spell.

"Honestly, Severus, do you really expect me to wear these?" she asked, waving them accusingly in front of his face.

He leered at her. "I thought even looking at them a few times might remind you to remove the pole from your arse on occasion." No one on staff would even dare say something like that to the Deputy Headmistress, except Severus. He was fluent in sarcasm and scathing comments and used them against everyone, even Albus once in a while.

McGonagall stared at him, expression vacillating between anger and…was that an amused twitch that just flashed in her jaw?

Finally, though, she simply shook her head at him, although he could have sworn her lips were threatening a smile. "There are many things I could say to that, but in the spirit of goodwill and cheer, I will spare you from the negative. It's certainly a most…creative…gift, and I suppose only fair in return for poor Ebenezer."

"Bah humbug," groused Severus, sparing a glower at the kitten who had crawled out of its box and was now exploring his desk.

Putting the slippers back in their package, McGonagall said, "Well, I shall leave you to finish up marking your essays and drowning them in commentary. Happy holidays, Severus."

He couldn't resist a snort. The holidays were generally as happy for him as a Dark Revel. "Yes, Merry Christmas and all that, Minerva. See you in the new year, I suppose."

She spared him a smile and left in a flourish, leaving him staring thoughtfully after her.

Returning his gaze to Ebenezer, who was peering curiously over the edge of the desk, he wondered if, just maybe, this new year would be a bit better than the previous ones.

He had no illusions that the Dark Lord was dead. No, he was probably out there somewhere, nursing his wounds and gathering strength, waiting to come back until the entire wizarding world least expected it. Yet there was no point worrying about that now. It would come when it came.

For the moment, he was free, and he was going to make the most of it while it lasted.

**FIN**

_I hope everyone had a lovely holiday season! Please review and let me know what you thought!_

_Cheers,_

_Alexa_


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